The Changeling
by The Secret Santa Project
Summary: FOR RYOU VERUA: Amane wasn't dead. She had merely been taken. Teamed up with two thieves in a strange magical land, Ryou will do anything to get her back, but he never thought to worry about his own growing feelings towards the leader of the thieves.


Title: The Changeling

Written For: Ryou VeRua

Rating: T

Characters/Pairings: Everyone is shipped with pretty much everyone else in this story. Technically, Tender/Gem shipping (Ryoux'Bakura,' AU Bakura who is also a thief), with a few side ships.

Warnings: AU (the kind where all the devilishly handsome men in the series are all magical beings). Also, does anyone else feel supremely awkward writing innuendo? Also, Zorc.

Word Count: 10,223

Summary: Ryou's sister wasn't dead. She had merely been taken. Teamed up with two thieves in a strange magical land, he'll do anything to get her back, but he never thought he'd have to worry about his own growing feelings towards the leader of the thieves. RyouxBakura.

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><p>This was written as part of the Summer Secret Santa over at the Yu-Gi-Oh Fanfiction Contest—actually for our lovely andor _crazy_ hostess Ryou VeRua. This plot bunny has been swirling around my mind ever since the Gemshipping round, and I came _this_ close to writing it then. Good thing I didn't because you get to read it now :) Inspired by my favorite children's novel of all time _The Moorchild_, which I cycled through like clockwork growing up. Ryou, I hope you like it!

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><p>The Changeling<p>

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><p>Nothing exciting ever happened in Domino. It's just a boring little town set into the edge where the forest met the wide, grassy moor. No one ever bothered with the moor if they could help it, though—in their ears they heard the stories whispered to them as children tucked away safe in their beds about the sprites, the fairies, tricksters and thieves. All the magic had been bred right out of them. They shunned it, like they would anything foreign and unnatural and just a little bit thrilling.<p>

Ryou shifted his position on the smooth, flat rock. The wind was peaceful today, gently rustling the grasses that patterned the expanse of land like a quilt. He had always liked the moor, always came here when he had a moment to spare or needed a place he could wholly call his. It's this place—alone and quiet and so very, very free—where he belongs.

Not like anyone would ever let him forget it, either. White hair and pale skin, even after years of working outside—they often whispered that he was bewitched. He wasn't like them. He wondered it himself, from time to time, and most especially at this time of the year. Summer solstice. Amane's birthday.

She would have been eighteen.

He felt it most, here in the seemingly infinite expanse of the moor. It was as if he could speak to her, hear her voice carrying in the whisper of the winds. He allowed himself to reflect on his most cherished and most secret belief.

She wasn't gone. She had been taken.

It was common practice, or so the tales went. Human children taken from their cradles and replaced with something enchanted, what with time would wither away and die. Ryou had asked his father about it one day when he was younger, when they both had begun to talk again. With only half of their family left, neither had much to say to the other at all.

"You both took after your mother," he had said, gruffly, sidestepping around Ryou in the kitchen, who was making soup for them both.

"What was she like?"

"She was lovely." Ryou caught a look at his father's face, and was surprised at its tenderness. There was something in his eyes that shone out at his thoughts, at the happy times before. His hard edges seemed to soften. "Stick-thin with light hair like yours—it was always getting in her way but she'd never cut it. She would make up songs that she'd sing throughout the day. She was always running out to the moor, even though there was nothing there—"

"Nothing there!" Ryou whispered, surprised. The knife slipped in his grasp; he had nearly cut his finger along with the carrots. "You don't believe in magic, or fairies, or changelings—"

"Ryou. There is _nothing_ there."

That had been the end of it. Ryou continued to sit on the rock, knowing full well what would happen if anyone from the village caught him out here on the solstice. It was forbidden, but he smiled to himself. _If they catch me then that means that they'd be in trouble too_.

Ryou waited until the sun just hovered on the horizon, the sky a rainbow of colors from indigo to the faintest pink belted horizontally as far as he could see. He set off, slinging his pack over his shoulder and crouching low in the grasses. It was night; he could explore and stay hidden. He would put to rest any lingering doubts in his mind this night.

His feet slipped over the sloping ground as he wandered farther away from the village. He passed a thick line of shrubs at the far edge of the field, ducking beneath the low limbs of a tree. The plants were wilder here, growing in brambles and tangles of their own design. It was getting even darker under the curtain of crisscrossing branches, but he could see a bright patch not too far ahead of him.

He crouched as close as he dared to the fire, his hands gripping the tall moor grasses and parting them just enough to see through. There were two people seated with their backs to him, warming their hands by the fire—a woman with dark hair and a man whose long hair was tied back high on his head.

"You talk too much, you know that?" the woman said. "We have to keep the portal clear, even though it will still be several hours before they start to cross over."

"What's that on the other side—days? Weeks? Time runs differently inside the mound, but I can't quite remember the conversion." He paused, his voice taking on a much different color. "I have a few ideas of how we can pass the time, if you're interested…"

Ryou crept in a wide circle around the bonfire, the words ringing in his mind. Portal—he had to find the portal. It must be around here somewhere, if two of them had come early to keep watch and prepare for the solstice night.

He was so focused on remaining hidden, on looking around him that he hadn't noticed the hole in the ground until his foot had caught in it, and he fell—at first pleased that he had managed not to shout in surprise, or pain, from the way his foot was throbbing—but as he looked upwards at the sky that was rushing away from him at an alarmingly fast pace he couldn't help but wonder just what would become of him.

He landed quite unceremoniously in a thicket of ferns, rolled twice, and then came to a rest on his back, dizzy from the trip. When Ryou's head started to clear he sat up and looked around. He could see a sky of dark blue dotted with starlight and lush plants unlike the stark beauty of the moor. _Outside?_ His mouth moved to form the words. _But I fell…_

He staggered to his feet; the journey had seemed to take quite a toll on him. A twig snapped underneath his next step. He saw someone approaching out of the corner of his eye.

"Everyone reacts badly to it the first time around. You'll feel better soon. Just get yourself off of the main road—wouldn't want to run into any rogues."

"Rogues?" Ryou took another several steps, his hands grasping the trunk of a tree to hold himself up.

"Oh yes." The stranger was approaching slowly, patiently, and Ryou felt the first stirrings of unrest curl up from the pit of his stomach. "Rogues, thieves, all sorts of unsavory characters that you wouldn't want to get yourself caught up in."

He was close enough for Ryou to see his dark-toned skin and mess of honey-colored hair. The man tugged his knapsack away from him, and Ryou protested feebly. The man looked first inside the pack, then up at Ryou, for the first time actually _looking_ at him. "Hmm…" he mused, intrigued. "And just what do we have here?"

He couldn't say anything further for Ryou had slumped forward, exhaustion overtaking him at about the worst possible moment. He wanted to say something, do something, but he was so very, very tired, and the carpet of grass underneath him was just so very, very comfortable.

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><p>Ryou blinked back against the sunlight that had woken him up, trying to listen in to the nearby conversation without letting his companions onto the fact that he had woken. He could hear the sounds of meat sizzling over a fire as well as two distinct voices. One he recognized, one was unfamiliar to him.<p>

"Marik, we've been over this before. We don't pick up strays. It's not my style." The man who spoke was hunched near the fire, intently studying the flickering flames.

"But he's a human, Bakura. He could be useful, valuable even! Besides, he must be extraordinary—he's the first human in decades to make it here all by himself. I'd say that at least earns him a drink."

"Tell him that, then. He's awake." Silence descended on the small campsite for a minute, where Ryou tried his best not to even breathe, let alone move. "Human, get up. Your breathing gave you away… as well as your stomach."

Ryou sat up slowly, moving much like a smaller animal just realizing it was being watched. "You… you look like me," he managed, first looking at one, then the other. It wasn't quite what he expected. No wings, they were even taller than him… but all the same, there was something about them that was definitely not normal. "And my name is Ryou. Not human."

Bakura turned back to the fire, removing several strips of meat from the fire and passing them around. "There's some fight in you. Good, you'll need it."

"Come again…?" Ryou asked.

"You're in the company of thieves—"

"—Might I add, the most _excellent_ company—"

"And we were just deciding what to do with you," Bakura continued with as much inflection as if they were talking about the weather or something else terribly mundane and not his foreseeable future. He leaned in just a fraction, his only sign of interest yet. "Just what are you doing here?"

Ryou had never been comfortable being the center of attention, and he doubted he'd been the subject of this much scrutiny his entire life. It was something about the way they looked at him—a detached sort of bemusement, not at all curious or threatened—that led him to believe that anything they bestowed must first be earned, never given freely, and that he'd better start talking or they would catch on that he had been staring right back at them.

"I'm here to find my sister Amane," he began, weaving together his story. "I think she's here somewhere—I must find her."

"A Changeling?" Bakura paused, a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. "Well then, you should go to the Palace—the King will surely know what has become of her. That's where they all go."

Marik frowned distastefully at the idea. "You know that I'm not welcome there. It will take ages for any of them to forget me."

"Especially the King, isn't that right? After your… what was it…'night of unbridled passion that he'll never forget for as long as he lives?'" Bakura grinned at the pair of them. The human's skin was turning an interesting shade of pink, and Marik looked to be so deep in denial that he was treading water.

"My mind is firmly on the treasure that I stole afterwards," Marik said, refusing to fall for Bakura's bait.

"I distinctly remember you talking about an entirely _different_ treasure."

"Oh, leave the jokes to your hairstyle—"

Ryou sighed; this was getting nowhere. "Look, I don't care about whatever… history either of you have."

"_Extensive_ history," Bakura said breezily. "Compilations, really."

Ryou promptly ignored him. "The only thing I care about is: can you take me to the Palace or can't you?"

In the silence following his question, he could see Bakura sizing him up, his dark eyes unreadable. Ryou desperately wanted to inch away from that piercing gaze, but steadily held his head high—he was here to find his sister, and if he had to throw in his lot with two thieves, then so be it. And there was a small, relatively silent part of him that didn't mind the company at all.

"If it's a deal, then what can you offer us?"

"Do you want money? I have some coins with me from home," Ryou said, fishing in the pockets of his pants for the coins that he had brought along. He stuck out his hand, the assortment of gold and silver coins stamped with numbers, names and faceless faces piled in the center of his palm.

"Is that… real gold? Real metal?" Bakura asked, guardedly, while Marik learned over his hand to get a closer look at the coins. Ryou clutched them tighter in his hand, remembering that he was about to make a deal with thieves.

"Yes, it's real. You can have it all if you take me to the Palace." Ryou waited for Bakura to nod his assent before tipping the coins into his cupped hands, admiring the way that they clinked together in their descent. At least for a few seconds he had felt rich. "Why shouldn't it be real? Do you not have gold coins here?"

"Word to the wise, human," Marik said, stooping to gather up the remains of their camp; to Ryou's surprise he returned the worn satchel Ryou had brought with him. "Never accept payment in Fairy Gold. Give it an hour, maybe two, and instead of coins you're left with handfuls of leaves and dirt. Makes for a wonderful joke, though."

In minutes they were ready to leave and they set off into the forest, leaving their small clearing behind. Ryou could hear a myriad of sounds as they walked: the crunch of leaves under their feet, the wind whistling through the trees, the screech of birds heralding the day. At a small break in the trees he glanced right, shocked to see a small creature with green fur jumping at the branches of a fruit-bearing tree.

"Feral Imps," Marik said, nodding his head towards the diminutive monster. "And up there is a family of Kuriboh." They walked up to where Bakura had stopped, watching the line of little fluffs follow each other across the path in front of them. Ryou bent his head down to look at them more closely. Their fur looked so soft—like the sheep they kept in the village. The last one turned up for a moment to look up at him with impossibly wide eyes before continuing on. He just had to smile—this, he could get used to.

They walked on for the rest of the day and set up their camp in another clearing on the banks of a river. As the sun dipped low in the sky, he could see a small group of fierce-looking Beavers splashing in the water near their own home of branches and sharpened sticks. Exhausted from the day, Ryou curled up in a thicket of grass just beyond their campfire and prepared to sleep.

"Hey, human," he heard Marik call as he closed his eyes. "If you get cold, you can always let me keep you warm." Ryou ignored him; the heat from the fire on his back was sufficiently warm, and it didn't take long for his mind to be dragged into slumber.

Ryou opened his eyes to the pitch-blackness of night, turning to see that the campfire had dwindled and was burning on twigs and embers. He sat up, noticing Bakura sitting on a fallen log beside it, staring off into the forest.

"Hey," he called sleepily. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Anything could happen while we're asleep. I'm keeping watch."

Ryou was shocked by the simple consideration of the gesture. "Thank you."

"You get what you paid for," Bakura said. "We made a deal, and I plan on seeing it through. Now go back to sleep."

Ryou mumbled a goodnight and turned over, leaning his head against one arm to get more comfortable. It wasn't long before he had once again fallen asleep.

The next morning was just as uneventful as the previous afternoon had been—they hiked up winding hills and past groves of massive trees with trunks dotted with lizards. When the sun was overhead in the sky, Ryou finally managed to voice a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind for some time. "Why haven't we come across any other…people?"

Bakura stopped to shift the weight of his own pack over his shoulders. "You would have to be either stupid or human to wander these roads—never know when you might run into something dangerous."

"Like thieves," Ryou added with a wry smile, keeping pace with his two companions.

"Or Leoguns—"

"Or Harpies," Marik chimed in. They walked around a bend in the trail, brushing against a curtain of ivy that cascaded from a stone escarpment.

"Or dragons," Bakura said, his voice now deadly serious. The twist in the path had concealed three very substantial ground nests, each with a speckled egg resting in the center.

"…Big dragons?" Ryou asked as they crept through the nesting ground. It was pure luck they had come by when the ground was temporarily unguarded.

Bakura stopped for a moment to study the eggs. "Definitely big dragons."

"…Friendly dragons?" They clustered in the center of the path. The creeping feeling in Ryou's stomach had escalated, the hairs at his neck prickling as a slithering sound grew louder and a black dragon clawed its way through the ivy wall, dragging its belly along the ground, pushing at the path with its claws.

"Blackland Fire Dragon," Marik said, crouching down like a compressed spring. "Definitely _not_ friendly."

"What do we do?"

"We run!" Marik bolted, Ryou right on his heels. He looked back for only an instant to see Bakura drawing something from his side, with the swish of metal through air.

"Move, human!" Marik yelled, pulling Ryou's arm to keep them moving. "Don't worry about him! Bakura thinks too highly of himself to die facing a Blackland Fire Dragon."

Bakura was laughing, rolling out of the way as the dragon swiped with one monstrous paw. He looked up and drove his sword upwards, piercing the skin stretched between its claws. It howled, spitting fire and torching the closest trees. Before the flames could reach him, Bakura was already up and moving through the nest, sure that the dragon would never set fire to its own eggs.

It seemed that the dragon had other ideas, and instead headed for the easier prey, stalking off in the direction the others had run.

Marik and Ryou tore through the forest, coming to a sudden stop as the forest broke in one even line, the ground forming a sharp cliff that dropped down farther than Ryou was comfortable with.

"See? The Palace!" Marik pointed towards the land across the ravine; the tips of several tall, winding spires were visible in the distance. Connecting their path was one hardy-looking wooden bridge. They ran to it.

The bridge swayed slightly with their movements as they stepped over the first of the planks. When a jet of fire scorched the trees behind them Ryou turned back, careful to look anywhere but down.

The dragon nosed its way out of the smoldering trees, turning its head right and left as if seeking them out. Bakura was right on its tail, swinging his sword and bringing it sharply down. "I told you, your fight is with me!" he yelled, piercing its tail and driving the sword through and into the ground. The dragon clawed at the ground in pain and roared, spitting flames that arced through the air.

"Get down!" Marik yelled, and Ryou complied, crouching down until his hair brushed the wooden plank that he had been standing on moments before. Marik glanced behind his shoulder to see the fire lighting on the middle of the bridge, burning through the planks and rope and spreading down the length of the bridge. The wood was hard but dried-out, and it caught fire quickly.

For a moment, the three were frozen, unsure of which direction to move. Ryou himself felt paralyzed; trapped on a burning bridge above a vast chasm. Then his eyes flickered to the flames that were spreading ever closer to them, and he found his voice. "What do we do?"

"Run back!" They scrambled to their feet and started to run, the entire bridge shaking as the cords holding the bridge together started to burn. The smoke from each fire the dragon had started was thick in the air and Ryou's lungs were already strained from the running. He coughed and ducked his head, feeling his foot catch on a warped board. "Damn it, we're not going to make it!" Marik yelled as the first of the cords snapped, the bridge twisting in the air. Ryou tried very, very hard not to scream.

The second cord snapped, and in one terrifyingly fast moment the bridge started to collapse. Marik and Ryou clung to the bridge as it swung back towards the cliff face, smacking against the stone with enough force that Ryou very nearly let go. At least the rope had continued to hold above them, although the ends below them were still charred.

"Here!" They could just see Bakura on the clearing above them. He threw several thick vines over the edge, where they dangled down the cliff wall beside the ruined bridge, the other ends of the vines secured to trees still unscathed from the fire. "We can rappel down the cliff. It means taking the long way to the Palace, but we don't exactly have a choice anymore." With nerves of steel he went over the edge, controlling how much of the vines slipped through his fingers and using the knobby turns in the plant as handholds.

Slowly but surely, they inched down the cliff until their feet brushed against the sandy embankment below. Above them, they could still hear the angry roar of the wingless dragon, unable to continue pursuing its prey. The river that had carved out this channel had dwindled with time to a small, lazily winding stream and as Ryou squinted up at the still-burning bridge above them, one thing struck him as odd. "Neither of you have any magic, then? There wasn't any way to put out the fire, or make the bridge re-build itself?"

Bakura laughed, slowly uncurling and stretching his fingers after the descent. "We have powers, sure. We're stronger than humans and have more attuned senses—"

"Not to mention superhuman good looks," Marik added.

Bakura shrugged his shoulders; Marik probably had a point. "But no differences that are physical. I don't know where you humans get your stories from, of wings and purple hair and sparkles."

"Oh." They set off down the middle of the canyon, which seemed to curve out in a circle around the higher ground that the Palace had been built on. The terrain subtly shifted as they walked; the occasional tree and scrub brush dwindled down until there was nothing left at all. Even the soil began to look gray, its color leached along with its nutrients.

Then they came upon a strangely wooded area. Each tree was bone-white, its branches twisted and deformed, casting bands of shadow across their path.

"They call this place the petrified forest," Bakura said as they walked through the grove of unusual trees. "It used to be a normal woodland, but the trees grew too afraid of the monster that makes its home in this valley, and so one day… they just turned like this. Petrified."

"M-Monster?"

Bakura looked straight ahead, the faintest of smiles on his face. "Zorc. The fiercest, most evil, most depraved being that ever walked this land. His lair isn't too far ahead of us. He's the main reason they built that bridge—too many people were disappearing. It wasn't good for business."

"See, Bakura here has always wanted to go head-to-head with the demon," Marik said, his eyes darting back and forth amongst the trees. "Figures, as he fancies himself the fiercest, most evil, most depraved being that ever walked this land—"

"I don't think you're all bad," Ryou said suddenly. The other two looked at him strangely. "I mean, I haven't known you for very long, but you did save my life in fighting that dragon, and again on the bridge…"

Ryou laughed a little; since when had talking ever been _that_ difficult? "At any rate, I just want to say… thanks. To both of you, really."

Marik scoffed, shooting a coy smile to Bakura. "Hey, we haven't even made it to the Palace yet. Let's not do any thanking until then, okay?"

As they passed through the petrified forest, their makeshift path looped closer to the walls of the gorge and to one side they could see the top of an elephant-like skeleton, tusks half-buried in the river's silt. "Mammoth Graveyard," Bakura muttered, stooping down to a nearby humanoid skeleton and retrieving its sword, shaking it free of any sand or dust and holding it to the thin light to assess its quality. Satisfied, he handed it to Ryou, who took it with hesitation. "I think you're gonna need it more than he does, and I'll liberate one for myself at the next skeleton," he said with a shrug, pointing his thumb back towards the decaying collection of bones.

The sluggishly moving stream fed into a large, unmoving lake which reflected back the old, crumbling castle that rose majestically on the other side of the valley. It seemed to be a part of the rocks themselves, built into the cliff face with the very same stone.

They edged along the path, bringing them closer to the castle. "Do you think it knows that we're here?" Ryou asked, his eyes continuously darting left and right.

Bakura smirked, still continuing forwards, eyes glittering as if he actually wanted to come face to face with the monster. "Why don't you speak up, and then we'll know for sure."

Many of the castle's windows were shattered or completely devoid of any glass at all, gaping holes in the structure through which they could make out an array of elegant, old furniture. Like a wealthy estate brought to ruin, Ryou couldn't help but think that it once had been very fine. Perhaps Zorc had good taste, in furniture and decorations and accessories and—

"What was that?"

He swore he saw something—a dark shadow, just out of vision, moving too fast to see clearly. Marik turned back to him, an odd look on his face. "I didn't see anything."

"Keep close," Bakura said, and Ryou gripped the handle of his recently acquired sword tighter, wanting to suggest that Bakura take it back but not wanting to speak for fear of the noise it might create, and the monster that might be lurking in the shadows.

"There it is again!" The words were almost yanked from Ryou's mouth, and he spun to follow the massive shadow as it flashed in and out of his vision, but this time he got a much better look. It definitely wasn't human, not even close.

Marik laughed low in his throat. "Something's here, all right, and it probably just wants to play with its food."

What happened next happened quickly, but to Ryou the seconds seemed to stretch much longer because he was frozen in shock, his feet stuck to the ground as an enormous figure appeared in the window, a huge hand reaching for him, its skin dark and leathery. At the last second he managed to grab his sword and point it forwards, feeling more than seeing something give and then the arm was withdrawn, the monster growling and hissing, snakelike in the way it darted back and moved on to easier prey.

Ryou could see it even more clearly now, and almost wished he couldn't. It wasn't that it was strictly terrifying, but he had never seen something like it in his life, something that seemed to radiate both darkness and despair. He didn't have time to glance at the others before it reached towards them again.

The same arm, slick with blood, shot out and grabbed Bakura, its fingers curling around his body and crushing tight. Bakura tried to twist in his grip; with his own sword relinquished earlier against the Blackland Fire Dragon, he had no weapon to defend himself. The claws were huge and relentless, and the monster raised its trophy higher into the air and stared it down, jaws snapping, a peculiar gleam to its eyes. In response, Bakura found the spot in his hand that Ryou had pierced with his new sword and swung his foot up to kick the injury.

Ryou raised up his sword, ready to swing at whatever he could reach, but Zorc twisted out of the way, his tail whipping backwards and tearing away part of the castle wall. Boulders fell, shattering on the path around them, the sound deafening and reverberating in their ears. Marik pushed him to the ground and out of the way as several large stones landed where he was standing not seconds before, managing to cover both their heads with his arms as more stones fell around them.

When they raised their heads, the monster had retreated with its prize, leaving Marik and Ryou alone and hunched over to one side of the castle, the remains of a broken wall barely shielding them .

"What the hell was that thing?" Ryou clutched his sword, the sword that Bakura had given him. The sword that in different hands might have saved him. He felt guilty and sick, but more than that he felt determination—the resolve to get Bakura back, and at any cost.

"Did you think he was going to introduce himself before attacking? Or maybe challenge you to a duel like a gentleman? This is Zorc we're talking about!" Marik leaned up to look over the retaining wall; swirls of dust and debris in the air were the only signs that Zorc had been there at all. For once, he wished Bakura were noisier because then, they could follow his voice. "There's nothing we can do! It's useless, it's all useless!"

Ryou looked up, seeing the remains of a balcony behind the upper windows. "No, we just need to turn this around… we need to find our own advantage. That monster is focusing on Bakura, it won't be expecting us. Are you with me?"

Marik glanced at Ryou, and after a moment he nodded, his eyes glittering with the familiar feeling of the hunt. Zorc probably had a treasure hoard of his own, and if they were lucky, he could do a little thieving on the side. Bakura would probably have done the same if their positions were reversed. "Let's go make a house call."

The inside of the castle reflected the outside, a beautiful ruin of tarnished fixtures and once-gleaming surfaces now dulled by a layer of dust. Everything was oversized, from the halls to the fixtures; Ryou was struck with the idea that this was, perhaps, the only place Zorc could comfortably fit. Marik and Ryou crept down one hallway, searching for the staircase that would take them to the upper level of the castle. They reached a fork in the path, then after a hurried discussion decided to split up, Marik going left and Ryou turning right. If Bakura's life was in danger then they needed to reach him as quickly as possible.

It didn't take long for him to find the stairs he was looking for, climbing up and then cautiously moving forwards, occasionally poking his head into rooms where the doors were closed, ducking behind corners when he got to them, trying to hurry but wanting to be thorough.

There was another large room beyond the next hallway, open to the second story and bordered by a long balcony. He could see Zorc right away, terrifyingly huge even when slouching in a slow circle around the center of the room. There, in the middle, was Bakura, scowling, refusing to back down even as the monster circled him, jaws snapping, occasionally brushing up against him only to dart, snakelike, back away.

Below, Bakura had to physically stop himself from shouting out. If it wanted to eat him, then eat him! He wouldn't go down easy.

Ryou looked down, across the cracked and broken balustrade, hardly daring to even breathe. How could someone like him go up against a fiend like that? It was impossible. Yet, he had to get Bakura back. His view of Bakura was partially blocked by a large chandelier, with several tiers ringed atop each other. He craned his neck upwards, searching for a way to get at Bakura. He judged the distance down. Could he make it?

Zorc leant forwards, leering at its prey, and Bakura barely moved; he wouldn't give it the satisfaction of budging an inch. If a moment presented itself, he would take it. His eyes drifted upwards, to the cavernous ceiling, to the ringed chandelier…

_Ryou_ was climbing down the chandelier?

Yes. It had to be Ryou, clinging to the iron ring for dear life with one hand, holding his sword in the other. He was scrambling down as quietly as he could—not that Zorc could hear him, for all the noise he was making himself.

Zorc seemed to have finally decided on something; he reached down and picked up Bakura, this time much more carefully than before, holding him up to his face. He wore an odd, almost eagerly animalistic expression that Bakura was not at all in favor of. A moment later and the room itself started to swirl, a strange mist covering the swirl in dark tendrils. When the walls started to move, he realized that in fact what was moving was them, sinking down and into the floor of the castle itself. Zorc had opened a portal and was taking Bakura with him, down to whatever shadowy realm he also included in his domain.

Bakura looked up, gritting his teeth. "Anytime now…" He struggled a bit, freeing his arms from Zorc's grasp.

Ryou didn't take long, slicing through the extra loops of the chandelier with his sword and causing the tiers to fall just enough, the fixtures making a loud crash as the chains clinked together and one edge of the circle caught the horns on the side of the monster's head. The largest tier settled around its neck and Ryou leaped, his sword ready.

He was aiming for Zorc's shoulder but at the last minute the monster shifted and Ryou's sword plunged right into the middle of its chest. The sword pierced through its leathery skin and sunk farther than he had intended, gravity taking its course. The monster, already half-within the portal it had summoned, started to thrash, a sound half between a growl and a screech echoing throughout the room. His grip on Bakura started to loosen.

"Come on!" Ryou kept one hand on the hilt of the sword and held out the other to Bakura. Without hesitation, he took his hand.

Ryou clambered up to the first tier of the chandelier, Bakura not far behind. He left the sword behind; the wound was bleeding, and Ryou assumed he had struck something vital. He had to fight the impulse to apologize to the monster, except he _did_ deserve it—he was about to vanish with Bakura, after all.

They threaded their way up the chandelier to the highest tier, until a sharp pull from below nearly sent them falling from the surface—Zorc, still disappearing into the void little by little, had seized the lowest rung of the fixture and was pulling it down, trying to take them with him.

"We've got to jump!" Bakura shouted, and Ryou tried desperately not to look down. He looked to the balcony, to the gap in the railing, and jumped, tumbling down on the balcony, his heart hammering in his chest.

Bakura got ready to jump right after him, sizing the distance between the chandelier and the balcony. He started to run, nearly there—

Zorc pulled one last time on the chandelier before he sunk too far into the portal, causing Bakura to stumble forwards, misjudging the leap. He started to fall, just short of the balcony, of safety.

"Got you!"

Ryou reached down, his hands linking around Bakura's, his body half off of the balcony. It hurt like hell, but Bakura was safe. For the moment.

Ryou grunted, trying to adjust his grip on Bakura's hands. The portal was still open, swirling in the floor of the entire space—if he dropped him, Bakura would disappear.

"Don't you dare let go," Bakura said, eyes locking with Ryou's. A small part of him couldn't believe it—his life was in the hands of a human.

Ryou's muscles burned. But he couldn't let him go.

Ryou pulled him up and over the railing, gasping from the effort. He had thought for a minute that he might have let Bakura fall. Below the railing, the portal was slowly beginning to close, Zorc disappearing into the swirl of shadows. Before long, the hall was nearly silent; the only sounds were the fluttering of the tattered drapes and their own breathing. Ryou was certain that he had completely forgotten to breathe before and now his heart was making up for lost time, pumping fiercely in his chest, a constant reminder of the fact that he was still alive.

Bakura slowly stood up. "How in the hell did you manage that?"

Ryou felt giddy, triumphant even. "I've been working in the village fields for over a decade! I guess I'm stronger than you give me credit for."

Bakura scoffed, neither an agreement nor a dismissal. They made their way down the staircase, stepping around fallen furniture and shards of broken glass, until they could see a very familiar figure wandering up to them. Marik grinned, his head dwarfed by a giant golden crown set with brilliantly cut gems. Several strands of jewels were draped around his neck, and there was an unmistakable jingling sound accompanying each of his footsteps. "I'm so glad I found you—I swear, this place is a labyrinth—"

"Well, if the upside to getting lost is access to Zorc's treasure hoard, then why not turn left?" Bakura said, mentally assessing the quality of the stolen goods. They had to be originally from the Palace, or incredibly old—and valuable.

"Zorc won't need them anymore, that's for sure," Ryou said, eager to continue onwards. "I wonder, we must have been the first people that he's seen in years, right?"

They turned their backs to the castle, picking up the path where they had left it earlier. "Yeah," and Bakura nodded his head, the image of Zorc slowly encircling him still fresh in his mind. "Explains why he was so unwilling to let us go."

Ryou stopped, tapped one finger against his chin. "You know, I think he was just lonely, that's all."

"Lonely?" Bakura couldn't believe what he was hearing. "No, he was hungry!" That possessive glint in his eyes and that wide, yawning mouth… The path twisted through the trees and began to rise, sloping gently up a hillside dotted with dandelions and other flowering weeds. It seemed that this part of the valley was beyond Zorc's domain, and their surroundings were once again alive and thriving.

"Think about it!" Ryou protested. "He hasn't seen another person in years, and whenever he's come across anyone the first thing they've done is run away, or try and kill him! _I_ think he's just lonely."

"You think that, then." Bakura didn't get it—was it so important to him that they had to agree? Yet Ryou was smiling, and seemed happy… perhaps discovering his own strength was the key. Of course, this didn't make him indebted to the human or anything. He shrugged that idea away.

They climbed to the top of that hill and then another, steeper than the first, setting up camp in a rocky overhang built into the rugged slope. Ryou sat by himself, staring back down at the steps they had taken that day as he watched the sun dip lower in the horizon. In truth, he hadn't thought about it much until that moment on the balcony—when he looked down to Bakura, cursing at him not to let go, and to their hands clasped together… now he had been thinking about it too much.

He had always known from his earliest memories that he wasn't like the others in his village. Everyone around his age was already happily married, even the boy who stared at him strangely whenever they passed in the village. He supposed that strange things sought each other out, because here was a world where everything was strange, and beautiful, and where it seemed for one fleeting moment that he might carve himself a place in it.

It was odd, that he felt like he… belonged here. And he proved it, sealed whatever doubt still lurked in their minds when the monster Zorc was sealed away. Ryou chanced a quick look behind him, where Bakura was toying with one of the golden strands he had liberated from Marik, sleeping early so he could take the late watch. Bakura was… like him.

It was absurd. What was his future here? Yet with each small sip of it, he wanted to know more of this newness, this strangeness. He wanted to laugh at himself, but then Bakura would hear, and what would he think—

Suddenly the golden chain was draped around his neck. Ryou looked upwards, seeing Bakura standing behind him—surprised, he shifted sideways, then shuffled again as Bakura took the space he had left behind, folding one knee up and lacing his fingers together atop it. Ryou waited, for something magical, something magnificent, for Bakura to say _something_—

"We should arrive at the Palace tomorrow," he said, breaking the silence in the most disappointing way.

Ryou paused, suddenly very conscious of the weight of the chain and the way it felt against his shoulders: heavy, oppressive. He wanted to fling it away. "That's all?"

Bakura frowned; melancholy did not suit Ryou. He had been wearing his strength well, but this was something else entirely. "You can keep that, if you want."

"What, to even the balance?" Ryou's voice was bitter as he ground out the words. "As a return for saving your life today?"

In an instant, Bakura was on his feet. "My life was never at risk, human."

"You're just too proud to admit it!" Ryou had also risen to his feet, hands balling into fists at his side.

Bakura scoffed. Of course he was proud; no one in this world could compare to his prowess or cunning. There was nothing to challenge him anymore, nothing interesting. It bored him. This human was nothing but wasted potential—daring, but pointless.

He moved closer to Ryou then, the two nearly touching with the rise and fall of his chest. He leant down, menacing, dangerous. "Just why are you here, human? How sure are you that you will even find your sister here? This place is too big for you—you've done nothing but get in the way."

Ryou's fist arced upwards, aiming for somewhere on Bakura's face—he was very new at this—but Bakura caught his fist in his larger hand, easily. For a moment, he just studied Ryou, his fingers still curled towards his palm. He held his fist there, in the air just above his cheek. He hated himself for it, but Ryou wanted him to close that distance, to show him what his skin felt like. He had only ever touched his hands, and then only twice.

He swung his other hand, this one also captured in Bakura's open hand. There it was, that sensation again—he had felt it when Bakura's clothes brushed against his arms. It lit up the hairs on his arms up and over his shoulders, down to his chest, down, down… Ryou wrestled one arm free, turning and pounding his fist in the middle of Bakura's chest.

It wasn't fair, Bakura probably hadn't even felt it, but Ryou could feel skin and muscle underneath that fabric. Slowly, exploring the feeling of it, his fingers splayed outwards, palm lying flat against his chest. Ryou looked up, and didn't know what to say, didn't dare to say anything—he'd rather stay silent than open his mouth and ruin everything. It was a good thing it was dark, otherwise the flush of color to his face would give away any cards he might have still held.

Bakura's eyes now were telling him something completely different—neither of them was really trying to fight anymore. They were going through the motions, half-heartedly, yet neither had attempted to pull away.

Bakura's head tilted down and Ryou instinctually turned his to the side, looking anywhere else but so very conscious of the way it felt, just to be close to someone. He didn't know what he was doing, but he was pretty sure that he had started it and he certainly had no intention of stopping it. Bakura's lips were so close to his ear and Ryou could hear him speak his name, glowing at the fact that he sounded slightly breathless.

"No, you must be here to torment me…"

And with that, Bakura stepped back, releasing Ryou and disappearing from their clearing into the forest along the hill. He felt his absence just as acutely as his presence, but more than that, he was stunned. Out of all the things Bakura could have done, he was _not_ expecting that.

Regaining the ability to move, he drew the golden necklace over his head and threw it in the direction that Bakura had gone. "Stupid!" he hissed, at Bakura, at himself.

There was a distinct rustle of fabric from behind him. "Hey, you'd better go get that back. And I'm talking about the jewelry."

Ryou's ears were probably tinged pink by this point; he stalked off into the grass and fished the necklace away from a clump of colorful flowers. "…So you heard all that?"

Marik had moved to sit closer to the edge of the stone outcropping. Shamelessly: "I _saw_ all that. Who knew, you're turning into quite the thief yourself?"

"I'm not—" Ryou sighed, his fingers running over the necklace just for something to do. "Forget it…. I knew that this journey would be tough, but I didn't expect this place to be so… that we'd get there so…" He started again after several deep breaths. "For the first time, I feel like I belong here. But what if tomorrow, everything changes? What purpose do I have in a world if there's no place for me in it?"

"Then you go back to your boring old human life," he said. " …What do you _want_ me to tell you?"

"I don't belong there either!" Everything he had held back, every word that stayed deep inside him was out. "Do you understand?"

Marik paused, considering something for a moment. "Let me tell you something about this world. You came in from the moor past your village, through the mound, right? You fell?"

Ryou nodded, remembering how they had first met.

"And this world is underneath the mound. Well, it's more accurate to say that it took quite a sacrifice to create that mound. A tithe. It was a village, called Kul Elna."

_Was_ a village? Ryou swallowed, his throat very dry. He remembered the rise of ground there, and then how he fell, downwards, through the mound, _the mound_, "It's a burial mound?"

"There's only one person left who is from that village, and you let him walk away," Marik said, turning a sad sort-of smile to the human beside him. "Do you understand?"

He understood only too well. It must be true, then, that strange things sought each other out, although he hardly felt strange here anymore. Perhaps there was a place for him here after all.

* * *

><p>To say that the Palace was grand was an understatement. First, they passed through the town that sprawled outwards like the target of a bulls-eye with the palace at its center—a maze of buildings made out of the most peculiar brick, a whirlwind rush of people of all ages, and every time Ryou stopped to admire something he was pulled forwards by Marik and Bakura. The former was still wearing most of the jewels and treasures they had liberated from Zorc's horde, attracting a lot of attention to the group as they strolled through the town. Ryou thought he was probably doing it on purpose. Bakura, instead, was doing an admirable job of pretending that nothing had happened between them the previous night.<p>

He shrugged it off, the sight of the Palace's turrets and spires overwhelming any other thoughts in his mind. They passed underneath a tall arched tunnel, entering into a courtyard flanked by two stone fountains. It was the finest thing Ryou had ever seen.

"It's the surest way to get an audience with the King," Marik said, throwing his shoulders back, accentuating the sound of metal clinking from all of the golden chains around his neck. "Waltz in and act like we own the place."

"An audience or a trial…?" Bakura followed warily, motioning for Ryou to stop dipping his fingers into the tiered fountain.

"Relax! I have a plan." Marik continued, throwing open the doors to another room, this one a long hall with one raised platform at the far end. Upon that platform was a throne, and atop that throne was a monarch, who watched them enter with a decidedly self-assured expression, staring them down as they entered. Ryou ducked his head and saw his own reflection in the polished floor.

"King Seto Kaiba," Marik said, sweeping him his finest bow. As an afterthought, he added, smirking, "it's been awhile."

"Not long enough," Kaiba scoffed. "Every time you show up around here something disappears." Ryou looked up at him—he looked every inch a royal, from his clothes to his bearing, and competent, if uncompassionate.

"This time we're here to give, not to take," Marik replied. "We're heroes, after all—this was all rescued from Zorc's lair after our newest acquaintance dispatched the monster himself. A gift, for your… hospitality." He stepped forward, moving up to the throne and plucking the crown off of his own head, presenting it to Kaiba, who took it without complaint, showing more interest in the gold than its bearer.

Marik stepped back, smirking. That just wouldn't do. "If you want more of it, you'll have to come and get it from me yourself."

"I'll deal with you later," Kaiba said.

Marik had rejoined the others. "I'm sure you will." After a moment, he elbowed Ryou sharply in the side, who stumbled forwards, heart racing at the moment he had been anticipating for so long.

Kaiba eyed him shrewdly. "_You_ killed the monster Zorc?"

Ryou nodded, gathering his strength—now was no time for meekness. "I would like to ask something of you, if I may…"

Kaiba nodded, gestured for him to get on with it.

"Fourteen years ago, my sister was taken from our village up above, in the human world. I believe she must have come here—please help me find her. Her name is Amane, and I would be so grateful if—"

Kaiba had shifted in his chair, raised one outstretched palm to silence him. "Amane? I imagine she would share your looks, then."

"Yes. Amane would be eighteen now… can you help me?"

Kaiba stood, moving quickly to a door set into the paneled walls. He was taller than Ryou had guessed, having only seen him seated upon the throne. "Mokuba?" He called, and there was the sound of footsteps. "Is _she_ with you? Go bring her, then."

Kaiba returned to face Ryou. "It is easily done," he said, watching Ryou's face change from apprehension into a nervous sort of hope. "I have only ever met one person here with that name, and I have reason to believe she is the one you seek."

The door opened a moment later, and a tall, thin boy with black hair entered the hall. He was also dressed regally, and he held open the door for someone to enter after him. Ryou looked up, his eyes wide, his heart hammering in his chest—

"Amane?"

She was dressed in a light purple gown that skimmed the tops of her shoes; her hair was long, and thick—just like his—and her eyes, he knew those eyes, it was her, _Amane_, his sister, right here at last… "I'm Ryou… I—I'm your brother. I—"

All of his carefully rehearsed lines disappeared in his mind, and so he simply ran to her. "Ryou? My… brother?" She reached out towards his face, her fingers tracing the familiar shape of his jaw, the white-colored hair that had been his burden his entire life. "You must be," Amane said, clasping her arms tightly around his neck.

"I remember so little of that time… it was so long ago, but to finally see you again, after all these years…" He just embraced her, her head pressing against his shoulder like it belonged there. A perfect fit. She was crying, and he desperately didn't want to in front of everyone but he just couldn't _help_ it. It felt like waking up, like his body was remembering something he had once known but time had stolen away.

After a moment he pulled away, and just marveled at her. His chest _hurt_, he was so happy. "I knew you were still alive," he murmured. They looked so alike; they were siblings and he had finally found her. He hardly realized that everyone else had gathered around them. "What about mother? Is she—?"

"She came here too, with me," Amane said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "She died not a year after but you must know… she was one of them."

Ryou looked up, and for some reason he couldn't explain, he found his eyes locked with Bakura's. "So that makes us…"

"Half-human, yes." It was the black-haired man who had spoken, coming up to them and grasping Amane's hand, their fingers linking together automatically. "And while this world has very specific rules about humans, anyone with at least a drop of fairy blood is welcome here." With his free hand, he reached out and shook Ryou's. "My name is Mokuba Kaiba. You could say that, very soon, you'll be my brother-in-law." His smile was huge, and prompted another pleased, yet very surprised, smile from Ryou as he turned toward Amane again.

"You're a… princess?"

"Not yet," Amane replied, smiling up at her brother and at Mokuba. "But soon." Ryou could barely believe it. She had done well for herself here, although he hadn't done too poorly himself.

She continued with a smile. "This is perhaps the best present of all."

He looked at her questioningly, before realizing what he had heard from the guards just before entering this world. _Time runs differently inside the mound_. She continued to smile, and gently took his hand. "It's the summer solstice," she said. "It's my birthday."

* * *

><p>Sometime during the festivities, the hours of sharing stories and more platters of food than Ryou had ever seen in his life, Bakura had caught him walking alone across the courtyard. He pulled him aside, perhaps more strongly than he intended, and Ryou was very acutely aware of their proximity.<p>

"You went from human, to being nearly a prince yourself, all in one day," Bakura said, his hands securely around Ryou's arms, his back to the wall. There was no chance of leaving this time.

Ryou leaned upwards, taking control because he wanted to, and because he had a feeling that Bakura wouldn't mind at all. Lips just inches apart, he whispered, "I think I'd rather be a thief."

Then he kissed him, first hesitantly, and then something changed when he realized that Bakura was kissing him back. He moved his hands up towards Bakura's neck, threading through his hair, body pressing against his like it belonged there.

A perfect fit.

* * *

><p>Ryou passed through the tall grasses of the moor, up the winding path to the village, past each familiar sight, trying to perfect every detail into his memory. It was early morning, the sky still tinged with pinks and oranges from the sun, and he continued onwards, blissfully happy, completely free.<p>

He approached the house, swinging open the thick wooden door. He heard footsteps from deeper inside the house, and then his father appeared, wiping his brow, torn between reprimanding his son and relief that he had arrived safely home. "Where have you been all night?"

"Father, there's… someone here, to see you." He held open the door for her, smiling, urging her forwards. She stepped shyly into the room, moving to stand by her brother.

Ryou caught a look at his father's face. There was something in his eyes that shone out at his thoughts, at the happy times before, at the happy times to come. His hard edges seemed to soften. "Amane…" he whispered, tenderly, almost reverently. In an instant he had moved across the room to embrace her and Ryou joined in, imagining how the Palace would look for a late summer wedding, with the three of them together again. Of life afterwards, a noble thief, as Bakura had taken to calling him. It didn't matter, really. He had everything. "My daughter, Amane…"

.

Nothing exciting ever happened in Domino. It's just a boring little town set into the edge where the forest met the wide, grassy moor. No one ever bothered with the moor if they could help it, though—in their ears they heard the stories whispered to them as children tucked away safe in their beds about the sprites, the fairies, tricksters and thieves.

They weren't stories. They were all true.

* * *

><p>The End.<p>

* * *

><p>And then Amane's father walked her down the aisle and they all lived happily ever after.<p>

_Author's Notes:_

The monster cards used/mentioned in this story are as follows: Beaver Warrior, Blackland Fire Dragon, Feral Imp, Harpie Lady, Kuriboh, Leogun, Mammoth Graveyard.

The "boy who stared at him strangely whenever they passed in the village" is supposed to be Ghost Kotsuzuka, because Ryou VeRua included Gothshipping in her request :D Similarly, the two guards that Ryou sneaks by in the beginning are supposed to be Ishizu and Ryuuji, for no real reason :D

A Changeling is either a fairy child who has been left in the human world, or a human child who has been taken to the fairy world. It works both ways. I picked and chose concepts from Celtic and Scandinavian lore, as well as from the pages of _The Moorchild_ itself, to fit this universe, so let's hope that it meshed in some cohesive way.

I wanted to center my story around the Summer Solstice, because this is written as part of the Summer Secret Santa Project over at the YGO Fanfiction Contest.

The hugest possible thank you and my undying gratitude to My Misguided Fairytale, who transformed this story into what it is now. Your helpful edits and comments show throughout the entire piece, and I'm lucky to have your help in making this story shine!

* * *

><p>Dear Ryou,<p>

I hope this has everything you asked for and then some! Tender/Gemshipping, Marik, action and humor, romance with plot, Ladder (yes, Zorc being lonely counts :D), some angst, a very happy ending, and a strong, capable Ryou. As something of a surprise for you, I tried to find some Umineko quotes and scatter them throughout the piece, so happy hunting there :)

I hope you enjoyed it, and I had so much fun writing this for you! You're awesome!

~Doubleplusgoodduckspeaker


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